


Cuddles & Pancakes

by KierenWrites



Series: Natasha & Her Guys [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aromantic Asexual Natasha Romanov, Asexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Clint Barton, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Cute, Domestic, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 08:29:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8242892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KierenWrites/pseuds/KierenWrites
Summary: In which Natasha has a nightmare and her boys make her feel better





	

Natasha Romanoff was never one for affection. That was, until Clint Barton became her best friend. She and Clint had become inseparable and slowly—very, very slowly—he had gotten her to accept Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes into her small circle of people she actually liked. 

She still couldn't stand Tony Stark though. 

They each had their own floor in Avengers Tower thanks to the fore-mentioned asshole Natasha couldn't stand, as well as an apartment where they all tended to be more comfortable. 

It was one of the rare mornings when Natasha woke up before all of the others, even the overachieving supersoldiers she was way too fond of to really stay annoyed at. 

As far as she knew all three of her boys were still sleeping soundly, curled up together. She doubted any of them would be up for a few hours yet, though Clint probably wouldn't be up until at least noon. 

She smiled as she felt a cold nose bump again her hand. Crouching down, she ran her fingers through Lucky's light brown fur. His tail was wagging so hard Natasha was surprised it didn't break anything. 

Lucky was Clint's baby, but he was forever bringing home more strays then any of them knew what to do with. Ironically each of them had their own pet, one that had chosen them after being rescued from wherever Clint had found them. 

Lucky, of course, was Clint's. Steve had a chocolate lab named "Freedom" that couldn’t be more than 6 months old and Bucky had a small white rabbit that he affectionately called "Killer". Natasha herself had a tiny black kitten named Fish (mostly just to fuck with Clint, not that she'd ever admit it) that loved more than anything to perch on her shoulder at any given time. 

Their apartment was always a little chaotic, but Natasha found she loved it all the same. 

Straightening up, she made her way over to the kitchen, pulling out the dog and cat food before distributing it into the correct bowls and refilling their water. Most of the time, Bucky liked to take care of Killer, but sometimes he would let Nat help care for her. Whenever she woke up this early she fed all of their pets, including his baby. Taking some celery from the fridge and grabbing some hay from the cabinet especially labeled "pet food"—she was never making that mistake again, not after a half asleep Clint ate the dog treats—before depositing them in their designated spot. 

Now that all the pets were taken care of, she moved back into the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee and leaning back against the counter. 

She really shouldn't be up this early. If they knew she was awake they would also know why. There was only one reason any of them woke up sweating in the middle of the night. And it was why she up at three in the morning about to start making pancakes for her boys. 

She stood there long enough that her vision started to flood with red, trembling with an emotion she couldn't quite place. It was times like this she would give anything to be curled around Clint and sandwiched in between Steve and Bucky. She'd never felt more safe than she did with them. 

Shaking off her sudden bout of emotion, she turned and started pulling out the ingredients she would need. Contrary to popular belief—thanks, Tony—Natasha was actually pretty good in the kitchen. Not as good as Clint and Bucky, but good enough that she had gotten all three of them addicted to her pancakes. She didn't make them very often, but when she did her day usually contained a lot of cuddles. 

She was starting on her third batch of batter when she felt a warmth against her back, a cool arm snaking around her waist. She'd known it would be Bucky before he had even gotten close enough to touch her. The guy had an innate sense for when one of them was upset. It was annoying more often than not. 

"Hey there," He murmured against her hair. "You doin' okay?" 

Ignoring him was practically impossible, so she just shrugged one shoulder and inclined her head towards the rather large plate of pancakes she had already finished. "You hungry?" 

"You know Steve'll kick my ass into next week if I touch those before he wakes up." 

Natasha smiled, unable to help herself. "Clint too." 

Bucky chuckled, his arms tightening around her. "You're right." 

"Of course I am," She shot back without thinking. It was practically a reflex. 

She could feel his smile against her hair, even though she shouldn't be able to. Maybe she had just been around him too long. Or maybe she just knew how he reacted when she had a nightmare. 

She hadn't realized her hands had stilled, the bowl almost slipping from her grip. If not for Bucky reaching around her and guiding the bowl down to the table it very well may have fallen to the floor. 

Turning Natasha around, he gently cupped her face, meeting her gaze with a gentle smile. "C'mon, Nat, talk to me." 

Shaking her head, she avoided his gaze. It would be all too easy to tell him, let him comfort her. She knew he'd had his fair share of nightmares, and if anyone would understand it would definitely be him. 

Bucky leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, wrapping his arms around her back. It would have been so easy to hug him back and melt into his embrace. 

She couldn't. It would be all too easy, but she just couldn't. 

"Bucky, no I—" 

He shushed her, pressing another kiss against her hair. "It's okay."

It wasn't. How could it possibly be okay? Nothing felt okay. 

She wasn't sure how long she stood there, hoping against hope the tightness in her chest would pass, even knowing that it wouldn't. She had plenty of experience with anxiety, with nightmares, with being terrified she would lose everyone she cared about. 

There was no one cared she cared about more than Steve, Bucky, and Clint. 

In the dream she had watched them die, unable to do anything to stop it. 

With a sob ripped from her throat, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt. She didn't cry often, but when she did, it was bad. 

Bucky rubbed soothing circles onto her back, holding her through it. Eventually they moved into the living room, curled up in an armchair together. Neither of them fell asleep, but little by little Natasha did relax. 

"It was—" her voice broke and she had to clear her throat before going on. "I had to watch you die, all of you." 

She didn't say much, but she knew she'd said enough by the sharp intake of breath Bucky took. 

"You have to know," He said softly, as if afraid to startle her. "That we would understand. All of us have had nightmares." 

She couldn't answer, but she could feel the anxiety melting away. The only thing that would make this better would be if her other two boys joined them. They couldn't all fit in this chair, but she knew they would likely sit on the floor and give Bucky and Natasha puppy dog eyes until they gave in and joined them. 

Yes, this had happened before. More than once. 

"Nat?" 

She looked up to see a half-asleep Clint standing in the doorway, wearing only a pair of purple boxers, rubbing at his eyes. Steve stood behind him, looking just as tired. 

Oh, right. They'd had some kind of S.H.I.E.L.D. mission the day before, something neither Natasha more Bucky had needed to be present for. No wonder they were still sleeping. 

"Come back to bed," Clint mumbled, swaying on his feet. "It's cold." 

"It wouldn't be if you wore a shirt," Natasha muttered, rolling her eyes. 

Out of the four of them, Clint was definitely the one most likely to start a cuddle session and he liked to wrap himself around any one of them at any given time, no matter what they were doing. Once when she'd been trying to leave bed to walk the dogs he had wrapped himself around her so securely she couldn't move for an hour. 

Looking down at her, Bucky gave her a small smile. It was the only push she needed to decide. 

Once they were all back in their very large bed, with Clint—completely unsurprisingly—curled around her, arms locked around her neck while his legs were tangled with Steve's and Bucky pressed up against her back, she felt better than she had since she'd woken up. 

They lay there for a while, Natasha slowly sharing her nightmare with them and all of them telling her some of theirs as well. 

Before anyone could fall back asleep, she said softly, "By the way, I made pancakes." 

It didn't take long for them to wake up and scramble into the kitchen, desperate to get their hands on the food. In the end, she had to make a couple more batches, which ended in a food fight and more smiling and laughter than she thought she deserved.


End file.
